


Four Things He Loved About Him

by Voidcoffee



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Other, ah this is just a cute lil drabble, the working title was "Petey Nuweyev???? where r u?????" if anyone wanted to know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-09 02:20:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15257268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voidcoffee/pseuds/Voidcoffee
Summary: Anyone would find it hard to think with Peter Nureyev's head on their lap, especially if your name is Juno Steel and you're being asked a very difficult question.





	Four Things He Loved About Him

“Juno, darling, what do you like about me?”  
“Your smokin’ body?”   
“ _Hmm_. Tell me, detective, tell me what you really think.”

 

It always started out the same way; a couple of drinks, some light music and Peter Nureyev’s head in my lap. It always ended the same way too. The only thing that changed was the dialogue. Or, monologue, depending on the evening. There were two things illuminating my apartment that night: the neon glow from Cecil Kanagawa’s newest billboard, and Deimos. We’d shared one bottle of wine I got from the store. I’d asked for the cheapest, most expensive-looking bottle. I’m classy like that. My tie was crooked and my socks were more hole than sock, but Peter? He was perfect.

 

This was a monologue kind of night.

 

“Where do I start?”

 

Yeah, where _do_ I start? I thought back to when I first met him. What stuck with me? His face? His voice? No. The answer wasn’t what stuck with _me_ , it was what stuck with _my apartment_. His cologne.

 

Intoxicating like liquor and twice as potent, his cologne was like the universe distilled into one bottle meant for only the most beautiful of gods. And dammit, did he deserve it. It lingered in my flat for a long time, but not as long as it lingered in my mind. I’d asked him about it once. About where he got it. What it was, what that scent was. All I got was a smile and the words “Everywhere and everything.”. Maybe that added to the mystery of it all. It reminded me of better days. Blooming flowers. Starlight. Smiles.

 

Damn, his smile. Lips as soft as rose petals and teeth as sharp as knives. An interesting combination for sure. Beautiful too. Enchanting, even. I’d always heard ladies talking about their lover’s eyes. Never about their smiles though. Peter Nureyev was just special that way. Why look into someone’s eyes when their lips could take five minutes to tell you nothing, and make you feel enlightened as they do so? His smile wasn’t perfect, but it sure did seem that way. A gap between chipped tooth and a scar on his bottom lip. Nothing that stopped me from wanting to kiss him every time those lips formed even the slightest hint of a smile. Put my lips on his, hold his hands.

 

His hands were slender like meandering rivers as they trailed over my back. They were like him, in a way. Scarred on the inside, but seemingly perfect on the outside. His nails were always perfectly done, no matter what. I’m sure they could reflect moonlight like a mirror. His hands were soft and coarse at the same time, like sandpaper that was rubbed soft. They’d held my hands, my chin, my entire body. They were the first thing I felt when we met, and the last thing I felt when I left. A thief’s hands. Quick, agile and brilliant.

 

Last, but certainly not least: his brilliance. Quick hands require a quick brain, and he had both. He’d often asked me what made me fall in love with him. His personality? His laugh? His body? I usually answered that last one. He never did believe me. Good, ‘cause it wasn’t true. I don’t fall in love easily, but the people I do fall in love with are often a hell of a lot smarter than I am. Peter Nureyev? Hell, he was smarter than anyone I’d ever met. I knew that the moment he’d gotten my keys and escaped the cops. I should’ve known it a lot sooner. I should’ve known it the second I looked in those beautiful brown eyes.

 

Peter Nureyev was special to me. And I’m not a genius, but I think I’m special to him too.

  
  


“So, Juno, what will it be?”

“ _Everything_.”


End file.
